A Decade

March 10, 2018.Reading time 3 minutes.

It’s been 10 years, today, since my mom passed. I feel like after all these years, I should have some eloquent things to say. Still waiting for the right words I guess…

I’m typically a very positive person but I have yet to find a positive that comes from losing my mom. I still get a sudden urge to call her when big things comes up- and little things. All things really. It saddens me to think of all the big milestones she has missed.

But you know what really screws with me? Living through the same disease that took her. I want to ask her about treatments, tests, side effects, thoughts and feelings- compare stories- and I can’t do that. I want to be able to cry to her when things get too scary because I know she would get it. Somehow, she always did have the right words.

I haven’t been great with dealing with my emotions over the last decade. Not just with her passing- with a whole lot of stuff. I hold too much in, I build walls and distance myself- it’s unhealthy but it’s my way of processing difficult things. I tend to slap a smile on and use lots of (maybe too much for some people) dark humor and keep on truckin’.

Perhaps I’ll get to have some sort of famous person breakdown here soon from holding it all in? Kidding. Seriously kidding. {cue Britney 2007}

Onto my oncology follow up. I’m back to needing to focus on a healthy diet. I’m skipping too many meals which leads to dizzy spells. Otherwise, my exam went well. My skin is healing nicely and all mouth sores have disappeared.

We are holding off on the aspirin regiment right now because we are seeing if I’ll get accepted for a targeted therapy double blind study- meaning I might get a drug that has been effective in treating metastatic triple negative bc or I might get a placebo pill. If I get accepted to this study, I’ll be part of something potentially really great for the C community because if the drugs prove to work on non-metastatic disease, it can then be approved for use. To qualify, one must be positive for the BRCA gene and HER2 negative. Note: my tumors were considered triple negative which means- Estrogen Receptor Negative, Progesterone Receptor Negative, and HER2 Negative. And I am BRCA 1 positive.

It’s a little scary to be a part of a study like this but also exciting. Although, before I get too involved, I have to see if I even qualify. Again, I’ll be sure to report back.

And thank you Ed Sheehan, for this:

Done With Xeloda

March 5, 2018.Reading time 2 minutes.

Originally, this post was going to get into some deep shit. Peppered with some stupid humor. But I just can’t do it right now.

Remember that trip I went on to Vegas last summer? With all the Kick Ass Cancer Mamas? Well, one of them passed this morning and I’m still processing it all. I’m currently in a numb state. She wasn’t just some person from a Facebook group. She was a true friend, who was full of love and she radiated it. This hurts.

So this will just be a quick update because it’s about all I can muster.

My last dose of Xeloda was about a week and a half ago. The tingling in my feet and finger tips has started to subside but my skin is still extremely dry. And the dry skin leads to constant itching. The insides of my nostrils are so dry that they are cracking- like deep paper cuts all up in there and it burns. The spaces between my pinky toes and the soles of my feet are splitting, making me nervous in various yoga poses that they are going to rip right open- I’m just thankful that the inflammation has reduced greatly and standing pressure doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m dousing myself in Aquafor and coconut oil daily with a little relief.

I’m assuming that the Xeloda will take some time to cycle out of my body and things will eventually ease up.

My hair has started to lose its ‘chemo curl’- that’s a thing- and is more of a puff with some straight chunks these days. I’ve just entered a super awkward growing out stage and I don’t see it looking better anytime soon. So, that’s cool.

I see my oncologist this Friday and hope to have some more information on what lies ahead with the possible Aspirin regiment.

And as sweet James Taylor says- “shower the people you love with love” ❤️

Final Xeloda Cycle

February 15, 2018.Reading time 7 minutes.

Last Wednesday, I started my last cycle of Xeloda. Before last week, I thought I could take on more cycles and had even asked my oncologist if I should. Short answer- she said no. Well, that doc knows what she’s doing. My mouth now feels speckled in sores and the bottoms of my feet are beginning to feel inflamed and painful. I’ve also had some queasy moments where I’m pretty the sure the X is to blame. So, I’m excited to be done with Xeloda this coming Wednesday- it’s really starting to drag me down.

I think I often give off this vibe of someone who has been able to put on a happy face and move along with life post diagnosis. I mean, I get it. I always have this damn smile on my face. But I think I’ve mentioned in the past- I smile when I’m happy, nervous, scared… Some days are easy, I feel strong and fearless. Other days, I want to crawl under my covers and hide from reality. C has proven to be a complete mind f*@$.

With that being said, I feel that there’s a need for me to put some information out there. Because I often forget that I was thrown into all of this and had to learn what was up- real quick. And that it’s not true for everyone reading this.

While I fully intend on never dealing with this shit again, I also understand that reoccurrence and metastasis are real things that I need to be aware of. I have several friends who have recently been diagnosed as stage 4 and it hurts my heart. Stage 4 means that the cancer has spread beyond its primary site. Note- The common sites of metastasis are bone, liver, and lung. People will often refer to this as “mets”. Mets can occur no matter your original staging. (For example, I was stage 3 at initial diagnosis.)

When/if someone has been declared “cancer free”, if their doctor even uses that term, or in remission- it’s not the end all, be all. We still tend to live in fear and panic with any and every new ache, pain, cough, etc. Fear that the jerk has returned, and if so- what’s next?

For example, last Saturday morning I went to Urgent Care for a back ache I had for 2 weeks. Yes, a back ache- where most people would pop some Advil and continue on. Not me, the pain had me believing that something was wrong. The doctor truly believed it was a muscular issue but I think she could see the panic in my face and ordered X-rays. Thankfully, she emailed me later that morning that all looked fine and she wished me a good weekend. Yes, it would be a good one with that news.

I wish I could say that this was the first time I’ve freaked out and had xrays. But I can’t. And I’m pretty sure it wont be the last time.

So I ask you all to be gentle with those who have been diagnosed, no matter the stage or where they are in the timeline of it all. There is sure to be some serious emotional and physical trauma to follow. Also, remember- if someone doesn’t look “sick”, don’t assume that all is ok. Not all chemos make you lose your hair, brows, lashes, and color in your face. And you never know what’s hiding under their clothes.

A couple more tips-

Never expect someone to be “back to their old selves” once treatment is over. We too, would love to go back to life the way it was before- but it’s not that easy.

Know that someone could have done everything “right” the first time around and still get a reoccurance or mets. Do not blame them.

And I will always include this tip, don’t tell someone about a person you know who had C and died. We understand that you are probably just trying to relate but that one doesn’t help. Talk about awkward…

I guess a blanket tip could be this— Always be kind to one another because you never know what they have got going on.

On a lighter note- yoga is going pretty freaking great. I’m learning so much and find myself applying the knowledge to my everyday life. On a physical level, my practice is much stronger and the range of motion in my right shoulder is blowing my mind! I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to lift my right arm over my head again but heck yeah, I can. I thought for sure the mastectomy, lymph node removal, and radiation would have done me in- restricting me forever. But with lots of patience, stretching, foam rolling, and strengthening- things are really improving.